Monsters Amongst Us
by HardyBoyz4Eva
Summary: Bray Wyatt/Fandango. The Shield Slash. Bray Wyatt is about to hit rock bottom in the worst way, and finds that he is losing sight of his true self, in favor of surrendering to the monster the WWE Universe wants him to be. Who would want to save the psychotic head of the Wyatt Family? And is he willing to be saved? Full list of warnings inside. Please Review!
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Cassiopeia and Kelly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Death of a Child, Violence, Threesome, Rare Pair, etc.

* * *

"There are very few monsters who warrant the fear we have of them." – Andre Gide

* * *

"There was a time when I was 'normal'… 'sane'… A time when the millions of devoted WWE fans would have scarcely recognized me." Bray stared down at the floor, a dark smirk overtaking his features. "Society has labeled me a monster, but society's opinion doesn't matter." Here, the smirk fell. He just looked… sad. "I just want to know… what _you_ think I am?"

Bray was, by no means, a stereotypical superstar. He wasn't attractive, at least, in a traditional sense. He had a sizeable build constructed mainly of strong, lean muscle, but didn't like to show it off in tiny trunks or skin-tight tights. His hair was mangy and his beard was just a little ways away from being considered a small bush, and he didn't seem to care about either. Realistically speaking, the only thing remotely attractive about the Leader of the Wyatt Family was his eyes. They were twin sapphires, nestled serenely between thick black lashes. Clear as crystal and flowing like a stream, they portrayed unimaginable sadness and pain to the outside observer. But this effect was lost on those who shunned him for his obscurity.

But there was something more, something that added to the oddity that was Bray Wyatt – his empathic, seemingly meaningless speeches. Bray was infamous for speaking in riddles, for stringing together what was, essentially, garbled nonsense, and leaving the WWE Universe in wonder as to what he could have meant. What the Universe had yet to realize was that these words were not riddles, not clever stories made up on a whim… they were stories, precious droplets of information that dripped from the poisonous lips of the _monster_, Bray Wyatt. The contemptuous WWE Universe did not realize the resentment that Bray harbored for each and every one of them. They were far too concerned with the 'what', and not with the 'why'.

Which brought him back to the present, to the two mean gathered before him. These men knew all that there was to know, and yet, they had agreed to stand by him. While there's was not a bond of blood, the oath that held them together was just as fierce. Erik and Luke had been there that fateful night when Heaven had turned to Hell, and, faithful to their leader, had not left his side since. Now, they stood before him, listening reverently as he spoke. Only _they_ understood the heavy meaning behind his every word. Only _they_ saw the true hollow of a man that stood before them, ready to crack at even the slightest blow. Only _they_ knew the _true_ meaning behind Sister Abigail…

"We think that you're a man." Luke Harper spoke up in answer to Bray's earlier question. "A man that is fighting his way back onto the path of redemption."

Erik Rowan, following that same thread, threw in, "While you say that society's opinions don't matter, you are clearly influenced and upset by them." He paused, before continuing softly, "We learned long ago that outsiders… they simply don't understand."

"What happened… it wasn't your fault. It was in the hands of Fate. Your wife… Your daughter… You couldn't control it."

And even after hearing all this, the tormented Bray could not help but ask, "Am I even worthy of redemption?"

His answer came in the form of a tiny child, who couldn't have been more than three or four-years-old. Dressed in a button-down t-shirt that was much-too-large (it most likely belonged to one of the three gargantuan men standing before her), she seemed impossibly small in such a large, oppressive world. Sweet black ringlet curls poured down her back in rich, flowing waves, and bright blue eyes, not unlike Bray's, peered out from between coal lashes. Her ashen skin made her look sickly in the awkward fluorescent light of the Compound, and the idea of the child being ill was perpetuated by how impossibly thin she was. But upon seeing Bray, rich, pink color spread in her cheeks, and she offered him a watery smile.

"Daddy?" She reached out for him with shaky hands. "I had a bad dream…"

Bray put on his best smile, putting on an all-too-familiar show for the little girl. "Of course, my sweet princess." He scooped her into his arms, earning a playful giggle. "Shall we go count the stars together?" And just like that, he terminated the conversation.

Luke and Erik watched him leave, concern evident on both of their faces. It was finally Erik who voiced that concern. "I wonder how long it will take for him to finally break?"

Luke shook his head, the sound of the screen door slamming closed signaling that Bray and Cassie were now outside. "I don't know. I just don't know."


	2. Ch 1: Stars

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." - Oscar Wilde

* * *

When Bray had allowed the WWE cameras to come in and catch a small glimpse of the inside of the Compound, he had only exposed the world to a small sliver of the seemingly run-down building that he called a home. The building was actually in decent condition, especially the actual 'living' area. If he had anything positive to say about his ex-wife (and, really, he didn't), it was that there was never a stray fleck of dirt or dust in the house under her watch. Cleaning had become her therapy after... the incident. Bray closed his eyes, forcing himself off of that train of thought.

Strolling through the living room, he backed into the screen door that led out onto the patio, not wanting to jostle the tiny bundle in his arms. Immediately, their senses were assaulted by the boggy, humid feel of the bayou. The occasional firefly whizzed by, it's luminescent body bright in the pitch blackness that surrounded them. Bray silently resolved to take the little girl to catch fireflies when her health was better. Other insects and the various amphibians that inhabited the nearby stream filled the night with beautiful, natural music. It brought a small smile to her face.

There was a rocker out on the back patio, angled in such a way that whoever sat there could see almost the entire night sky - save for what was hidden by gargantuan trees, their colorless leaves molded together into a black blob in the darkness. Bray eased himself down, again mindful of the little one in his arms. Once he was seated, Cassie made herself comfortable on his knee. They sat like this for several moments, Cassie idly staring at the sky, Bray staring at the precious child and wondering why he was granted such a gift. Finally, it was Bray who broke the silence.

"Do you want to tell me what the bad dream was about?" Bray asked. At this stage in her life, she still believed that Bray was the knight in shining armor that would destroy the evil monster under her bed... she didn't realize that he _was_ that monster.

"No." The little girl said dismissively. She kicked her little feet lazily, holding the arm of the rocker in her little fist. "Don't 'member."

"Is that so?" She nodded hurriedly. Clearly, if she _did_ still remember it, it wasn't something she was keen on discussing. "Well, then, how about we look for your stars, hmm?" Just as he expected, she practically jumped off his lap in anticipation. "You remember where they are?"

If Bray wasn't mistaken, Cassie appeared to be _insulted_ by his suggestion. "'course I do! Cassie big girl!" Carefully sliding off of his lap, the little girl took the big step off of the patio and eased down toward the bayou - Bray watching her every move warily. Suddenly, "There it is!"

Bray followed her finger, finding the familiar shape in the sky. "Yep, that is the Queen, alright." Bray confirmed. "What letter does her throne make?"

"Uh..." he could almost see the alphabet flying through her head, "W?"

"That's right!" Cassie's face lit up with a bright smile. "That star there... that's her head. And if you trace the stars like so... her backrest, her seat, and her footrest." He paused, then continued, "Hey, Cassie, would you like to hear a story?"

She nodded once more, already starting back up onto the patio. "Yes, please!"

Once she was almost there, Bray lifted her up onto his lap and began. Cassie always liked to hear her father's stories, even if they didn't necessarily make sense. She stared up at him in wide-eyed wonder as he wove a tale about constellations like hers (he said that it was called _Cassiopeia, _and that that was _her_ name too, because she couldn't pronounce her 'p's very well) having been real people a long, long time ago. But they had done something very important in their lifetime, and therefore were forever immortalized within the stars.

"Did big sister have a star?" Cassie missed the way that Bray's massive arms tensed around her, or perhaps chose to ignore it.

Bray squeezed his eyes closed, forcing his blood pressure down. She was only a child - hadn't even been born yet - it would be unfair to assume that she would know. Once again, he put on his best smile for her. "Yes, she did. At one point, at least."

"What you mean?" Because his little angel had _never_ been one to let sleeping dogs lie.

"Her original name... it would have been after a star, just like yours." Here, Bray paused. "But your Mommy changed it at the last minute."

"Oh." Thankfully, Cassie hadn't often asked about her mother. The mysterious absentee in her life just didn't seem to strike a chord with the young child. But after a moment, it was clear that this Q&A was far from over. "Don't Daddy wanna talk about big sister Ab-,"

He cut her off with a finger to her lips, "Don't say her name." The words were curt and harsh and brought tears to her bright blue eyes.

"I-I'm sorry D-Daddy." She sniffled. "Cassie no mean to make Daddy mad."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." Clearly, his jovial mood had ended, and the dark cloud from earlier had returned full-force. "It's time for bed." She opened her mouth again, but he cut her off. "No, you may not sleep with me. Go ask Erik or Luke if they'll take you in."

Cassie ran back into the Compound, tears streaming down her face and sobs racking her tiny body. Bray felt absolutely awful for tearing her down like that, but knew that it was for the best. She was too young to comprehend what was happening, too innocent to see that the storms were rolling in. Bray might've forever been corrupted by the damage his uncaring father had done to him, but he was determined to have one _normal_ soul exit the Wyatt Compound before his death. She didn't need to know what ate away at him every second of every day... and so he sat, staring at the sky, motionless, for _hours_.

When he finally re-entered the Compound, everything was dark and still. Erik and Rowan had retired to bed, then. And, by the lack of screaming, it was clear that one had taken pity on the young girl and allowed her to sleep over for the night. Once again, Bray felt a stab of guilt for turning her away so harshly. Heading upstairs, careful to avoid the steps that were particularly creaky, he was easily able to locate which family member was watching over her for the night. The door to Luke's room was open, and upon peering inside, he found both on the bed, an open _Disney Princess Storybook_ between them.

The scene was beautiful and disturbing, so anti-Wyatt that for a moment, it actually made him _smile_. Maybe there _would_ be one normal one after all. Allowing the smile to fall, he made his way over to the bed and leaned down, kissing Cassie's forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Then, he took his leave.


	3. Ch 2: Summer Rae

"Children begin by loving their parents; after a time they judge them; rarely, if ever, do they forgive them." - Oscar Wilde

* * *

Sleep did not come easily that night. For much of the night, Bray had sat on his bed, immobile, staring out the window at the stars. The stars seemed to be his final connection to Cassie, who seemed to be growing up much too fast and pulling away from him much harder than he cared to admit. And for every tug on her end, there came a not-so-subtle shove on his. He couldn't help but wonder if maybe it would be best if he just... gave in. It was clear that he just wasn't cut from the right mold for fatherhood. Maybe Cassie would be better off... with a different father.

He turned to the door, almost expecting to see a little face peering in from the other side. There wasn't one. He'd really done it this time. The look of fear and hurt on her face was been burned onto his brain, and he knew for certain that he'd never be able to un-see it. When he had finally caved around four o' clock in the morning, the stars had started to dim slightly. Collapsing onto the bed, he pressed his face into the pillow and released a long-suffering sigh. Finally, before allowing his eyes to fall closed, he grabbed the picture frame off of his bedside table.

Now, eyes closed, he kissed the elegant frame surrounding the carefully preserved photo, before hugging it close to his chest. There was a time when everything had been normal... a time when everything had been _right_... "Goodnight, Abigail." And then, he went to sleep.

* * *

**Monday Night RAW**

"Tag, you're it!" Kelly boldly slapped her friend on the shoulder, before turning around and sprinting down one of the many winding hallways that filled the newest arena. "Catch me if you can!" Her last words faded out as the distance between them increased.

Cassie, laughing, quickly took off after her friend. "Wait up a second!"

They really weren't supposed to be running around backstage... but the Wyatt Family and the Shield had a big six-man tag team match in the Main Event, and what they didn't know, wouldn't hurt them, right? Despite Cassie's best efforts to track down Kelly, however, the tiny blonde was much too fast for her. Within minutes, Kelly had vanished and Cassie was hopelessly lost. In her confusion, she didn't recognize the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching. Still running after her friend, she collided nastily with Summer Rae's left knee. Cassie let out a soft sniffle as she fell flat on her butt, a bruise already forming on her forehead.

"Watch where you're going, you little brat." Summer spat at the tiny child. It only took her a few seconds to realize that the worst of the damage wasn't an inconsequential collision... "Oh my God, look what she did to _my dress_!" Screeching now, she held up the torn fabric for her partner to see.

Curt popped his bubble gum obnoxiously, inspecting the damage to the flamboyant number. It wasn't bad... at least, not as bad as Summer would like to make it out to be... and the fringes of the dress would cover it. "Just a little tear. Don't sweat the small stuff, my love." With that, he offered up a dazzling smile.

Her eyes widened considerably, bulging comically. "Small stuff? C'mon, Curt, be serious! This isn't some little water spot or stain... it's a fucking _hole_!"

"If you're as stiff as you usually are, that shouldn't be a problem." Curt said, before blowing a light pink bubble.

A small sniffle coming from the tiny child reminded them of the cause of their little dilemma. Summer turned back, absolutely fuming and, disregarding everything that Curt had said, promptly screamed, "This is all _your_ fucking fault!" And smacked the little girl on the cheek.

Curt grabbed her arm, pressing his fingers into the pale skin _hard_. "What the hell do you think you're doing? She's just a little kid!"

"She's a klutz and she -," but Curt cut her off.

"No, I don't want to hear your excuses. There is _no_ reason to hit a child." Curt hissed. "If you're so worried about your damned dress, go get changed."

Summer, after throwing her mutated version of a tantrum, went back in the direction of the locker room to do as Curt had so forcefully suggested. This left Curt and Cassie by themselves (Cassie assumed that, by now, there was little to no chance of Kelly coming back). For several moments, Cassie watched him through the blurry shield of her tears. The bruise on her forehead, which had formed from her collision with Summer's knee, was already dark and purpling. Her cheek wasn't in much better condition. Curt offered her a sympathetic glance, before reaching out for one of her hands. Cassie backed away warily.

"I'm not going to hurt you, angel." Curt said, smiling, before popping another bubble. "I just want to see how bad that you're hurt. Will you let me do that?"

After a moment of staring into Curt's chocolate brown eyes, Cassie decided that his motives were just and nodded slowly. "...Y-Yeah."

Approaching her carefully, he gently felt the outline of the bruise on her forehead. "Does this hurt?" She nodded, whining. "You dizzy at all?" She shook her head.

"Cassie is sorry she broke pretty lady's dress." Cassie sniffled. She winced a little when Curt's hand brushed over her flaming-hot cheek, but tried to remain brave. Daddy always said that nobody liked a cry-baby, after all. "Cassie didn't mean too."

Curt gently ruffled her hair. "I know that you didn't, angel. None of this is your fault, and you certainly didn't deserve this." Pausing for a moment, he continued, "You know what will make everything all better? Ice cream. They have some down in catering... do you want some?"

Cassie hurriedly nodded, "Yes, please!"

He extended his hand toward her... and after a moment's hesitation, she took it. He easily scooped her up into his arms and held her close to his chest - his embrace was warm and comforting, everything that her father's wasn't. She was still amazed at how nice he was being to her, given that the lady that was with him had tried to make her cheek implode. She raised a tiny hand to rub it, but he gently pulled it away. He claimed that it wasn't good to touch it, that it would make it hurt more, and Cassie believed him. So she rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

Once they were downstairs in catering, Curt got her the ice cream that he had previously promised. He also got a washcloth and dipped it into icy cold water, drained the water from it, and then held it to her cheek to try to keep the swelling down as she ate. Once again, Cassie was stunned by how much he suddenly cared, when they had never met before, and she was _certain_ that he didn't like her father. In their line of business, not many people did. But he seemed to like her well enough, and that was nice. It was nice to not be yelled at for a change.

After she had finished her second bowl of ice cream, Curt flashed her a small smile. He was still working on his gum. "You feeling any better, angel?"

"Much." She promised. And then, holding out her bowl, "More ice cream?"

* * *

Bray stood in the entry way to catering, watching the entire scene unfold. He didn't know why his daughter was battered and bruised, but that could be dealt with at a later time. No... what he was concerned with was his daughter's laughter... that pleasant giggle that was seldom heard inside of the Wyatt Compound. Once again, he was faced with his perceived total incompetence as a father. And then, Cassie turned back, and for a moment, her eyes seemed to catch him. Seconds later, Curt returned with her third bowl of ice cream and he was totally forgotten. Was he really less important than a bowl of ice cream?

For the second time, he found himself whispering, "I'm sorry."


	4. Ch 3: In The Basement

"I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection." - Sigmund Freud

* * *

Bray watched for a few moments longer, before he simply couldn't stare at the scene any longer. He wasn't terribly fond of this complex inundation of emotions that had been washing over him as of late - they were powerful and confusing and tiresome, and very much unwelcome when all he longed for was the gracious mercy of being able to _forget_. To forget what his little angel had felt like in his arms, to forget how he had once rocked her to sleep, to forget the sounds of beeping machines and frantic doctors and pained wheezes and _absolute silence_... the silence, he thought, was the worst of all.

He managed to track down Luke and Erick, who looked a little worse-for-wear after their match. They had taken a hard loss, and Luke was sporting a bloody forehead. Bray stopped in front of them, asking stiffly, "Would one of you go in and retrieve Cassiopeia? I'm ready to return to the Compound."

"Yes, Bray." The two responded in unison, almost sounding _bored_. Luke nursed his bloody forehead and Erick a distorted shoulder, and Bray, nodding to them both, took his leave. Both turned, watching him, before he vanished around the corner.

* * *

"Luke!" Cassie cheered, jumping off of her seat and plowing into the bigger man. Luke bent and lifted her up, pausing mid-action to stare at her forehead.

"What happened to you, Cass?" He asked, reaching out to gently touch the bruise on her forehead. Cassie flinched away, almost falling out of his arms in the process. "Your forehead is all black and blue. Did you fall?"

Cassie's smile fell, and, shooting one glance over her shoulder at Curt, promptly responded, "Cassie fell in the hall." She let out a tiny sniffle, "Hit head on table. Hurt... dizzy... nice man help me. Gave me ice cream." Curt let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Erick cracked a twisted smirk. "Giving her ice cream is like asking her to marry you, y'know. She'll never let you go, now."

Curt rose to his feet, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "That's not such a bad thing, now is it? Though I have to say, I think that she's my youngest fangirl."

She stared at him, reading the question in his eyes - _why did you lie for me, for Summer?_ The answer was reflected in her bright smile, as she balled up Luke's shirt in her tiny fists - _because you were nice to me, and that doesn't happen very often_. "Go home now, with Daddy?"

Luke nodded, brushing back her cute black curls. "Of course, Cassie. We're going home now to Daddy." And then, to Curt, "Thank you again for watching her."

"Not a problem. She's a dream." Curt's smile morphed into a smirk when he saw the shocked look on their faces. "First time hearing that one, huh?"

Luke and Erick shared a look, before Luke said, "Most people usually have a heart attack when they discover who her father is. Everything else is... well..."

"Basically, she's crazy by association." Erick helpfully supplied. "She's a Wyatt, and as far as anyone outside the family is concerned, we're _all_ out of our heads."

Curt offered the little girl a glance. She was busy suckling on her thumb and knotting her free hand into Luke's hair. The big man was not impressed. "She seems alright. 'Sides, I never exactly thought you guys were crazy. Troubled, maybe... but never crazy." Curt flashed them a smile. "I'll see you guys later, then."

Curt waved to the little girl, who promptly abandoned her task of knotting Luke's hair to wave back at him. It was only after that that he took his leave, a pleased smile on his face. Cassie resumed her earlier task as the two gargantuan men slowly took her out to the car, never once uttering a word, even to ask about the whereabouts of her seemingly MIA father. The two men would've been worried, had this been an abnormal occurrence. After the little spat that the two had had earlier, Cassie would mope for at least a week. Bray would silently crumble inside until at last, he caved, and they would become the best of friends again.

Luke tucked her into her car seat and turned on the DVD player in the rental - the second part of _The Little Mermaid 2_ was playing, and it immediately caught Cassie's attention. She did so _love_ her Disney Princesses. Since Erick had driven there, Luke would be taking them back to the Compound (the beauties of performing in your hometown) for the night. Once they were both inside the car, Luke started it up and started to pull out of the parking lot. On their way out, in the rearview mirror, it appeared that Curt and Summer were getting into a fight in the parking lot. But soon, just like the arena, those two faded out of sight.

Once he was out onto the road, Erick turned to his fellow Wyatt family member and said, "I overheard McMahon and the Creative team talking today... she's planning for some serious shit to go down on the last RAW of the New Year."

This caught Luke's attention. Carefully pulling into the correct lane, he asked, "Like what?"

"She's gonna have Bryan come to the dark side." Erick gave off a twisted chuckle, but then, his face turned serious. "He'll be moving into the Compound shortly after his acceptance into the family... and there's only one room left in the Compound."

Neither man noticed that a little face had turned away from the TV screen in the back, in favor of watching the two men before her. After all, their conversation was _much_ more entertaining. "Oh no," Luke shook his head, "Bray will _never_ go for that. That was Abigail's room. Nobody is even allowed _near_ it."

Her interested peaked at the mention of her big sister's name, but she remained very quiet, not wanting the two men to know that she was listening. "Doesn't really matter." Erik said. "If he wants to keep his job, that is. And I'm not too keen on sharing my room... my closet, actually. It's not very much of a room."

Luke smacked him on the shoulder. "Be thankful that you even _have_ a room! If it wasn't for Bray, your ass would be on the street!"

"Seriously? You can't honestly tell me that you don't wonder what it would be like if we were... well, normal?" Erick countered smartly.

"I don't, because I know it could never happen." Luke retorted. "We've all got our skeletons in the closet, stuff that makes us... stand out from the crowd. Bray's are just exceptionally large and unorthodox." Was the explanation. "And I am smart enough to realize I'm better off with him than anywhere else."

The car fell silent again as Luke swerved into the right-turn lane. They were about five minutes away from the Compound now, and Cassie had seen hardly any of her movie. "Guess you have a point there."

Luke smirked. "It just about kills you to admit that, doesn't it?"

Erick didn't respond. Instead, he countered with, "So, what do we do about the Bryan situation?"

A dismissive shrug, followed by one hell of a turn, was his answer. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Luke pulled into the driveway, which was little more than a dust and gravel path that led up to the garage. There was quite a dip down off of the road and Cassie let out a tiny, startled shout as the car went down, up, and then down again. Luke offered her a comforting smile from the driver's seat, before whipping into the spot in front of the garage and cutting the engine. Erick, reaching back, turned off the DVD player, promising that _The Little Mermaid 2_ would be waiting, safe and sound, for their next car trip. Luke came around and retrieved the little girl from the backseat, carrying her in just as she liked.

Once they were inside the house section of the Compound, he set Cassie down and she ran off to play with her dollies. "Just remember that bedtime's in fifteen, little lady!" The only answer Luke received was tiny, heavy feet on the wooden stairs. And then, softly, to Erick, "You think Bray will ever be able to love Cassie?"

Erick shoved his massive shoulders. He was tired and anxious to get out of his ring gear. "Can't be too sure... but I think that it's about as probable as the crowd startin' up a 'Yes' chant when the Wyatt Family music hits." And that was the end of it.

* * *

"Whatchu think, Luke?" The little girl asked, holding up a pretty red heart that she had just finished coloring. "Is it pretty?"

Luke tilted his head to the side, before nodding appreciatively. "Yes. Very pretty, Cassie. Who is it for?"

"Mr. Curt." She said, plopping back down onto her seat. Absently, she began biting on her crayon, kicking her legs back and forth in frustration. Finally, with a triumphant exclamation, she jumped off of the seat, grabbed her arts and crafts box, and pulled out a box of glitter. "Glitta pretty." She explained.

The big brunette watched as she slathered glue over the heart, before applying a healthy layer of glitter to the wet surface. And then, something occurred to Luke. "How come you never make anything for Daddy?"

She paused for a moment, before responding, "Daddy no like pretty things. Mr. Curt like pretty. Mr. Curt _is_ pretty. And he like Cassie... Daddy no like Cassie." She stopped for a moment, as if this fact troubled her, before happily resuming her previous action.

Luke raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?"

"Daddy never tells Cassie 'I love you'. He never tells Cassie stories, never hugs Cassie... yells lots... Cassie try hard be good, but he no care. All Daddy love is Abigail... Cassie not Abigail." She shrugged. "Cassie me. Cassie can't be Abigail."

Luke pulled up a chair, sitting across from the little girl. "How does that make you feel, thinking that Daddy doesn't love you?"

Another shrug, "Cassie can't make Daddy happy." She closed her glitter. "Abigail make Daddy happy. So that's okay." She blew the excess glitter off, sending it flying into the air. "Because Cassie wants Daddy happy... even if she can't do it herself."

* * *

Bray stood in the basement of the Wyatt Family Compound, the only light coming from the occasional lantern hanging in a semi-circle around him. He was circling around something, but it was difficult to see what it was in the overwhelming darkness. He was completely out-of-touch with the scene happening upstairs, and really, probably would have just been too frustrated and angry and hurt to provide any comfort to the little girl. No, he needed this. He needed to vent, needed to clear his head. Otherwise, he'd make the situation with Cassie one-hundred times worse.

Grabbing onto the object that he circled around, he spun it around till it came into the light. Sitting on it was a form, bound and gagged, and Bray offered the young man a twisted smirk, "Hello, Daniel."


	5. Ch 4: Mother, May I?

"To be the father of growing daughters is to understand something of what Yeats evokes with his imperishable phrase 'terrible beauty.' Nothing can make one so happily exhilarated or so frightened: it's a solid lesson in the limitations of self to realize that your heart is running around inside someone else's body. It also makes me quite astonishingly calm at the thought of death: I know whom I would die to protect and I also understand that nobody but a lugubrious serf can possibly wish for a father who never goes away." ― Christopher Hitchens

* * *

Bray tore the gag out of Daniel's mouth and left the smaller man keening, a little bit of drool dribbling down his chin from his screams of anger and frustration around the strip of leather. Once he regained control of himself, he spat out, "What the hell do you think that you're doing, you psycho?"

"Now, is that any way to treat the patriarch of your new family?" Bray teased. Slowly, he circled around Daniel's chair, looking around with wild eyes. "You see, things have changed since our last encounter, Daniel." His gaze turned unbearably dark. "I'm no longer _asking_ you to join my family... I'm leaving you no other choice."

"What makes you think that I'd listen to _any_ of the crazy shit that spills out of your mouth?" Daniel hissed, spitting in Bray's general direction.

"Because, Daniel..." here, Bray suddenly became very serious. That lunatic look was gone from his eyes, and instead, he just looked... empty. "I'm sick."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "No shit. Someone would have to be blind to _not_ be able to see that you're totally off of your rocker."

Bray lowered his gaze to the ground. "I know that... you know that... as you said, _everyone_ knows that." Bray tensed. "The only one that _doesn't_ know it is Cassie. She doesn't need to know, and if I have my way, she never will." And then, control returning, "You think you know everything Daniel, but really, you know nothing."

"Really?" Daniel sensed that Bray was bird-walking, walking off track of what he had originally intended to do. That was good. "Then enlighten me."

Bray smirked, reading Daniel's not-so-innocent intentions. But he decided to indulge him... for now. "The Wyatt Family is my brain child... the perfect family for my perfect little girl." Bray paused directly in front of Daniel's chair, staring into Daniel's eyes. "Because I am not the father that she deserves."

"So, you're brainwashing people so that they'll play house with your little girl? That's even sicker than my original picture of you!" Daniel forced out.

"Oh, they're not brainwashed. They just know." Bray said simply.

Daniel cocked his head to the side. Now, it was _his_ turn to dig a little deeper. "And what exactly is it that they 'know'?"

"They know that it is only a matter of time before something up here," here, he tapped the side of his head, "just _cracks_."

Never had truer words been spoken. It was only a matter of time before he succumbed to the darkness lurking within him, only a matter of time before he confessed that he was every bit the monster that the world thought that he was. He didn't deserve the perfection that was his little girl - he could trust that she would be in good hands with his brother-in-law and close friend. If he could not provide her the perfect family - which was obvious enough, given the renewed custody battle that his ex-wife was bringing against him - then he would create one for her. She deserved nothing less than the best.

He couldn't help but think back and remember when things were perfect, when he'd cradled both of his daughters close whilst sitting out on the porch swing on the back porch, watching the sunset over the bayou. It was so painful now, thinking back to holding Abigail. Back then, it had been such a beautiful thing. Now, thinking about his little girl's smile or laugh felt almost like his heart was being torn in two. The heart that nobody believed that he had was breaking, perhaps even already shattered, and he didn't know how to make room in the small part that was left to love someone else... when he couldn't even love himself.

"You're out of your fucking head if you think that I'll be a part of your little family, no matter what grounds it is built on." Daniel was watching him with utter disgust in his eyes. "Now, let me go! Let me go... and maybe I _won't_ press charges for this little kidnapping."

Bray smirked. That lunatic look had returned to his eyes. "You will come around... eventually."

"Keep thinking that, and you're daughter won't be yours for very long. I don't think you realize this, but one day, you'll poke the bear. You'll poke the bear, and that bear will have just enough influence to make your life a living hell." Daniel said. "That person will take your little girl away. And you won't be able to do a damn thing about it."

The words didn't seem to make any impact on Bray, but they were resounding with him deeper than either man could have known. "One day, you _will_ understand your calling, son. One day, you _will_ follow the buzzards."

Daniel narrowed his eyes at the bigger man. "I think that its about time that you realized that you're _already_ cracked."

"Believe what you will." Bray told him, his voice rising in both pitch and volume. He started to pace around the chair again. "But _everyone_ in the world is at least a little out of their head. And I..." here, he laughed. Rolling his eyes toward the heavens, he pitched, "I'm just doing my part to fit in!"

Daniel was almost in _awe_ at the true depths of this man's insanity. Just the thought of what he was doing made him say, "You disgust me."

And then, eyes darkening, Bray confessed softly, "I disgust myself."

It was in that moment that Daniel was allowed to see a rare side of Bray Wyatt, one that he kept sheltered from the world as often as possible. His normally electric earl gray eyes had taken on a softer, less oppressive nature. His shoulders slouched forward slightly, and he seemed much less forward and intimidating. In fact, he almost seemed... _sad_. Those last three words that he had spoken carried such a horrific weight to them that they made Daniel pause and re-evaluate the man that stood before him. Was there really a chance that there was more to him than the lunatic that they saw on television?

As if his only concern was to further confuse Daniel, he then proceeded to unfasten Daniel's bindings and, for all intents and purposes, release him. Daniel shot him a distrustful look. "Why are you letting me go?"

"You finally understand, Daniel." The only problem was, Daniel _didn't_ understand. Not at all. "You've seen inside my head, my child..." that lunatic grin was back, "and I dare say you like it in there!" Rolling Daniel's chair around to face a mirror, he squatted down so that they were of equal height. "We'll be family soon enough, Daniel."

"Only in your wacked-out dreamland." Daniel spat, before getting out of the chair and making a beeline for the steps. "I'm getting the hell outta here."

Bray only smiled. "You'll be back." And even as the door slammed behind him, he continued staring, whispering softly to himself, "You'll be back..."

* * *

**The Next Morning**

Bray was fairly lucid by the next morning, and, if Luke dared acknowledge it, in a much better mood than he had been... well, since _any_ of them could really remember. He even made breakfast for Cassie, which was an incredibly rare occurrence. However, once they were all seated at the table and 'happily' munching away, Luke and Erick _did_ notice the look of sadness that momentarily took over their leader as Cassie excitedly showed him the pretty things that she had made for her new best friend, Curt. But just as soon as it had appeared, it was gone, and Bray was ruffling her hair and telling her what a wonderful job she had done.

But finally, it came to the moment of truth. Bray, cupping the little girl's chin, asked, "And where did that bruise come from?"

"I fell." She said dismissively, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. She was well-aware of what would happen to Fandango and Summer Rae should she tell the truth - and even if she didn't like Summer Rae that much, she may have had a tiny crush on Fandango. "Mr. Curt was real nice... helped me up."

"Is that so?" Bray asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded fervently, and that was the end of it. Changing topics quickly, he took on a much different route when he asked her, "How would you like to spend a few days with Kelly?"

"Really? Kelly?" She was practically bouncing out of her seat with excitement. "Oh, please! Please, please, please, please!"

Bray smirked. "I wish that you were this excited to do just about anything else." And then, "Yes. Daddy, Uncle Erick, and Uncle Luke have some business to take care of far away. I figured you'd like to spend the time with your friend, and -,"

Before he could even finish that thought, she was out of her chair and into his arms. She squeezed him as hard as she possibly could (which, realistically, given her size, wasn't all that tight), before slipping out of his embrace and making a run for her bedroom, screaming back about how she had so much stuff to pack. Bray wore a look of complete shock on his face, even long after she was gone. It was all-too-apparent that such displays of affection between father and daughter were few and far between. It took several moments for him to regain control of himself, and once he did, his face became incredibly serious.

"So, where exactly is it that we're going?" Erick was finally the one to break the silence.

"Gwen re-opened the custody case because her psychiatrist has deemed her mentally fit to be a responsible mother. We have to fly down to the courthouse for initial proceedings, where the judge will decide whether or not her case stands." Bray answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Do you think that she knows about -,"

Bray's face suddenly turned hard. "Yes. She knows _everything_."


End file.
